Pain pays the income of each precious thing
by rafaelafv
Summary: Basically episodes 2x08 (Collision) and 2x09 (What Kate Did) on Jack's perspective. Explores his mixed feelings about Kate and the kiss. Losely inspired by the song "I'm not calling you a liar", Florence & The Machine, which I think of as a beautiful depiction of Jack's sate of mind after the kiss. The fic is named after a Shakespeare verse from "The Rape of Lucrece".
1. Chapter 1

For the first time in a while, Jack was actually having fun. The view of the improvised golf course almost made him forget where he was, but on the back of his mind the absurdity of the situation made him chuckle slightly: there he was, on a deserted island, playing golf with a beautiful woman, who just so happened to be a fugitive. And she was kicking his ass.

"Wow. You really put it in there." Kate mocked as they both stared into the trees where his ball had landed.

They walked the path until there, while he silently cursed himself for making it just so easy for her to nag him. His pride was hurt, but he also didn't mind her playful mood… there was something about her that day. Jack thought he might be imagining things, but she seemed slightly more flirtatious than usual, her smile dragging on for longer, the way she paused on some words and seemed to examine him up and down before continuing the phrase. And damn, did she look good today, he thought as he bend down to hit the ball.

"Kate, you might wanna move" he said playfully, as he watched her grin turn into an alarmed expression. He turned around and saw the huge man.

"Where is the doctor?"

Just like that, he wasn't Jack anymore. He was the doctor. The doctor. The one who carried the weight of these people's wellbeing on his shoulders. The one who could not allow himself to playfully flirt with Kate, let alone think about ever going further in manifesting his affections for her.

_One_

_Two_

_Three_

_Four _

_Five_

He let the frustration overcome him for five short seconds. He could no longer focus on how unfair it was, this responsibility. He had to act fast.

Once they arrived at the hatch, after walking silently as fast as they could, Jack started moving mechanically to assist Sawyer. He did not allow himself to even look at Kate, which wasn't all that hard, since he had shut out whichever part of him that had the luxury of feeling anything for her. He wasn't Jack anymore. He was the doctor.

It was in this state of numbness and sheer concentration on his task that Jack moved Sawyer to the bunk bed, with Kate's help. Which is why he didn't notice the stinging worry in Kate's voice, as she asked for instructions. He didn't think to search for tenderness in her lingering looks to his injured patient. He even ignored her clearly wet cheeks and her contorted face, focused on the effort to refrain from sobbing. Which is why the shock was more violent and painful when he saw it. There she was, holding Sawyer's forehead in the most delicate and tender way possible. Each word she whispered felt like a slap in his face, forcing him to face reality. The softer her voice, the deeper it stung and the clarear it became to him.

There she was… right in front of him, showing obvious signs of affection for someone … someone else, as Sarah had once so eloquently put. The thought of Sarah made him look away, in a failed attempt to hide the hurt obviously written all over his face. He finally looked up when she had succeeded to make him swallow the pill, and could barely hide his pain as Kate's hands ran affectionately through Sawyer's hair. Her laugh, of relief and reassurement, made his stomach drop. The ambiguity of such a beautiful sound causing him such despair made him painfully conscious that this was heartbreak, like he knew only to well. And that is the cruelest part of heartbreak: it is not all unpleasant, for it is love slipping through your fingers and, as it slips away, you get to watch the pieces crumbling to the ground. At that moment, Jack knew the fall would be as beautiful as it would be painful, so much so he might have wished for it to slow down… because afterwards… there would be nothing left.

"Nice job. Never learned the whole whisper-in-the-ear thing in med school." He heard himself say in a desperate attempt to hide his thoughts. He had intended it as a light-hearted and reassuring joke. Had she heard the ressent and pain? Had he said it in an overly ironic way?

_You fool_, he thought standing up. She is not worried about minor inflections of feelings in your voice. She is in pain, she is watching powerlessly as the man she… as Sawyer suffers. If she feels for the injured man half of what Jack feels for her, she is in such a state of despair at the idea of anything bad happening to him that she can't even hear her own thoughts, let alone worry about what Jack might be feeling.

Jack woke up from a restless sleep on the couch to a soothing musical sound. He recognized the song, but the tune was so gentle and pure… no instruments. With his eyes still closed, he let the music invade him in every possible way, the voice uttering it strangely familiar.

_I go out walking after midnight_

_Out in the moonlight_

Even out of tune, it was a sweet sound to wake up to and for a moment Jack was almost content. He smiled weakly, still engulfed in this sensation.

_Just like we used to do, I'm always walkin'_

_After midnight, searchin' for you_

The sound became more and more real as he opened his eyes slowly and drank in his surroundings. Suddenly he couldn't remember why he had slept so badly, seen as he was waking up to the sound of _her_ voice.

Singing.

_I walk for miles along the highway._

He slowly sat up, almost involuntarily drawn to the source of the sound, but he had to make no effort to find it. The door to the bedroom half-opened, Jack sighted Kate, crawled into the chair she had slept in, besides the bunk bed. She rocked slightly to the rhythm of the song, her hair following her movements lazily, which gave the whole scene a very dream like feature.

She sang, tenderness and care noticeable in every note, besides the bunk bed. Where _he _lay.

The pinge on Jack's chest came as suddenly and as painfully as it had the day before. He smiled weakly despite the sad realization, drinking in the softness of her voice. Pain pays the income of each precious thing.

He shifted slightly to try to see her better through the slit of the door.

_Well, that's just my way_

_Of sayin' I lo-_

She stopped suddenly, moving her hands to her face. For a second, Jack thought she had heard his movements, but she made no gesture to turn. He got up slowly and waited a couple of minutes to walk up to her, not wanting Kate to know what he had overheard.

"Hey" he said softly, reaching for her shoulder.

"Hey" she replied, barely turning her head to see him.

"Have you been there all night?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she turned her gaze back to Sawyer and stared intently.

Jack approached the bed to take a closer look at him.

"I should examine him and change his bandages." He stared back at her and noticed how pale she was. Her hair was partially tied up, her face shining with sweat, her eyes… one could barely read emotion in them, they were wide and lost, as if she made an effort to hide the obvious redness that surrounded it. Doing his best to ignore what had put her in such a state, Jack decided she had to get some fresh air. "It would also be a good idea to get some food into him. Why don't you go get him some fruit?"

She hesitated.

"Kate." He said, softly but firmly.

"Okay". She shot one more long glare towards the unconscious man and left.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sorry, man, I know this hurts" Jack said as he tended to Sawyer's wound and he flinched slightly in his sleep.

"Michael told me you pulled the bullet out with your bare hands. You have to show me how to do that sometime." he added playfully, smiling as if he were making conversation with the unconscious men.

Tending to his wounds was strangely therapeutic. Jack's hands moved around carefully, in this well rehearsed dance that reminded him of before. Before… it had been a while since he had thought tenderly of his life before the crash. After all, there wasn't much tenderness to it. 12 hour work days. One or two friends who lately did nothing but worry about him.

And here, despite the apocalyptic circumstances, he had…

Sawyer mumbled something inaudible.

"What? I didn't-" Jack said, suddenly ripped from his reverie.

"Where is she?" he whispered, his eyes still closed.

Jack's heart dropped. Here he had… well, nothing.

"You mean Kate?" his face was now dark. He shook it off and, in an attempt recovered some of the playful spirit he had managed to engage in just seconds ago, replied "She's been watching over you for the pas 24 hours straight. Only way I could get rid of her was to send her out to get some food for you."

Jack had barely managed to reenact something like a ghost of a smile when Sawyer cut him, mumbling with his eyes still closed.

"Love her … I love her"

Jack stared at him, eyes dark and starting to water, as the words sank in. Falling back to the chair besides the bed, he stared intently at the unconscious man. It was not anger or jealousy that he felt, only the stinging sensation that had followed him since he first got to know her and of which he had become painfully aware yesterday. Pain pays the income of each precious thing.

He could not decide what hurt more: that Sawyer had been able to formulate this unnameable - even if in delirious fever - before he himself had gathered the courage to, or that he was only too aware of Kate's own affection towards the injured man.

When Kate told him to go down to the beach for the funeral, Jack knew she was right. He was almost ashamed of having insisted on staying, but he was also painfully aware of the fact that she was not insisting for him to go - however right she might be on the reasons why he should -, but for her to stay. With _him_.

As he head back to the hatch after the funeral, all he could think of was Sawyer's words and the way they had stung him. If he had been looking for a confirmation, there it was. Jack could no longer deny that there was something more to the way he himself felt about Kate, even if he was yet too hesitant or afraid to name it. How could he not be? When her green eyes screamed danger, mistrust and mystery. How could he allow himself to bury himself in them? And yet he had dived and was now struggling for breath, for it was now clear nothing but heartbreak would come from it.

Jack's muscles tensed suddenly as he entered the hatch and heard the loud and insisting sound of the alarm. _Kate_, he thought desperately, as he screamed for her, worry filling his heart.

He was all the more confused as he reached the bedroom and saw Sawyer lying on the ground. Something bad had happened. His mind flew straight to worse case scenarios, imagining that she had been took somehow, that they had her… or even-

Jack stopped himself, this wasn't leading him anywhere. So he bolted to the beach, hoping to find answers.

A horse? On the patch to the caves, looking for a horse? What the hell had happened? After talking to Charlie, Jack's worry turned into confusion and anger. She couldn't just _run_ like that. He was getting tired of her recklessness, her arrogance, her-

"Kate, what the hell are you doing out here?" he said as he saw her, not making an effort to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"What happened in the hatch, Kate? Why'd you leave? I come back, I find Sawyer just lying on the ground. You just took off."

"Is he ok?" She cuts him, which makes Jack lose the little patience he still had.

"Yes, Kate, he's fine." He snaps, disbelief and anger in his voice.

"I'm sorry." She says and gets up to leave, turning her back on him. Oh no, he won't have it.

"Are you?" His words are meant to hurt. Jack regrets it as soon as he sees he has succeeded. Kate turns to face him slowly, a pained expression on her face, that soon turns into anger, mirroring his own previous rage.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I am not as perfect as you! I'm sorry that I'm not as good!" She snaps, as she approaches him, now so close he can smell the mud and the sweat that cover her.

"What's going on with you?" He raises his hands in a defensive stand, confusion blurring his thoughts. Where was all of this coming from?

She starts walking away, but he grabs her by the arm and pulls her close, even as she fights him. Beyond the rage, Jack had seen pain and shock in her eyes and he needed to let her know he was there. He had to show her he was no longer angry, he was just there. However thick the walls she had built around her, he had to show her she had a friend in him. No matter what.

"No, don't walk away from me. Kate! Kate, Kate, Kate. It's okay. Hey, Kate."

"This place, this place is crazy" she sobbed, giving in to his embrace. "I can't, it's driving me nuts."

"I know, it's ok" Jack held her shoulders in a comforting, manner as he stared into her eyes. "It's all right. It's all right. All right?" He repeated the empty reassurements as a mantra, hoping he was able to show her, with the softness of his voice, the deepness of his eyes, that he meant it. He needed her to know that, even if he couldn't make any promises, he would do his best; that, if it were up to him, he would spare her from this misery and get her off this island that same day, whatever it took.

Kate nodded slightly and that was when he felt it. She knew. Her bright green eyes had no longer the expression of fear and confusion of just seconds ago: all he saw in them was relief, trust. She knew. She understood.

When Kate moved her hands up to his cheeks, Jack barely had the time to process what was happening. All he felt was her closeness and the need to shorten the gap between them, as she closed it with a kiss. A desperate one, that smelled like sweat, mud and blood. He kissed back, forgetting everything but the sensation of her fingers wrapped around his hair, her body pressing closer and closer to him, her tongue darting out to search his.

If pain pays the income of each precious thing, how much more suffering would he have to endure to make up for the sensation of pure bliss he had allowed himself to feel for as long as the kiss went on?

The answer came right away. To watch her run and be able to do nothing about it. To stare into her eyes and see nothing but confusion and regret, not even a slight shadow of the tenderness that had been there before.

_I'm not calling you a liar_

_Just don't lie to me_

_I'm not calling you a thief_

_Just don't steal from me_

_I'm not calling you a ghost_

_Just stop haunting me_

_I love you so much_

_I'm gonna let you_

_Kill me_

_There's a ghost in my lungs and it sighs in my sleep_

_Wraps itself around my tongue at it softly speaks_

_Then it walks, then it walks with my legs_

_To fall, to fall, to fall, to fall_


End file.
